The Birthday Present
by MissScorp
Summary: It's Bruce's birthday and the members of the Batclan all wonder what they are to get for the man who literally has everything. Well, one person knows exactly what the venerable Dark Knight wants-his son Jason. So that's what they decide to give him...with or without Jason being willing, or conscious. All 4 Robins' appear, as does one very shocked Batman. T for swearing.
1. Bruce

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but for the general concept of my theme and storyline...

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"Jason…"

He could barely breathe out that single, solitary word around the kaleidoscope of emotions swirling around inside him. They washed over him, flooded into him, as he sat there in the formal dining room at Wayne Manor. Pain, shock, regret, joy, all so intense, all so overwhelming, that he was dizzy from them. It was like one stunning emotion slamming into each other, leaving him dazed and trembling. And he thought he was going to simply explode from all the pressure building up inside him.

_There are so many things I want to say to you, son, _he thought while staring at the man standing in the open doorway_. But I don't even know where to begin. Or how to say any of the things that I want to say to you. _

Jason had not stepped foot inside this house in nearly seven years. His death was a shroud that hung over not only Wayne Manor, but over both of them as well. It was the single most traumatic event that he'd been forced to endure as both Bruce Wayne and Batman. A night that would live forever in his mind. As if he could forget holding his son's lifeless body in his arms. As if he could erase that final image of them laying his coffin in the ground. He would never forget that it was _his_ fault that his son had been murdered by that damned clown. Just as he'd never forget that it was _his_ fault for not recognizing that what his son needed the most was a father, not a partner.

Repressed grief added to the fury that simmered deep within his soul. His failure to be the kind of father that his son needed, combined with his refusal to utilize lethal force upon the man who'd murdered him, was the largest reason for why he and Jason were estranged. And that estrangement was why his son no longer came home. That he'd chosen to come here now, and on that night of all nights, struck him as unusual. And made him ask one simple question;

"Why are you here?"

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**A/N:** This opening drabbles piece is in response to _The Reviews Lounge, Too_—the Green Room challenge posted by the amazing EHWIES. The goal is to write NINE prompt pieces before the end of October. I have pledged to write **three**—but may write more if time and inspiration allow. For now, this is prompt challenge **one**:

The prompt is this:

_'"Write a series of drabbles or flash fiction pieces that together tell a larger story. Bonus points if your drabbles are written out of chronological order/follow a nonlinear timeline, or if they aren't plot-compliant with each other but still tell a cohesive story (by sharing the same theme, etc.). The drabbles/flash fictions should each be between 100 and 400 words long."'_

Challenge has been accepted!


	2. The Red Hood confronted

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but for the general concept of my theme and storyline as well as the character of Raya Kean/Fenix.

**A/N:** This is rated T, but I'm placing a warning that language be taken into consideration. I did keep it tame though just because.

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She was out of her fucking mind. Jason Todd stood there looking-glaring was more like it, at the woman who was leaning against his motorcycle.

"And I should care that tonight is Bruce's birthday, why?"

"Because he's your father."

Jason snorted. "And ya think that means dick ta me because?"

The look she sent him should have laid him out cold on the concrete; Jason merely lifted a brow, deliberately challenging, silently baiting her to do something. He was satisfied when those eyes became a predatory shade of green, much like a jungle cat stalking its prey.

"Oh, your father means dick to you, huh?" There was a quick, nasty nip to her tone. He heard it even as she did, but she didn't apologize for it. "Right, Jason. Ya wouldn't go out of your goddamn way to get his attention if he meant dick ta ya!"

His temper flashed—equally as dangerous as hers.

"Watch it, Kit," he gritted.

"Or you'll do what, _Hood_?"

It was a bold challenge. One that the damned woman knew he would never accept. He'd sworn to never lift a hand against her, in play or in anger. And it was a vow he was going to live up to even if it killed him.

"You're about to be sadly disappointed is what, Raya." The ends of his lips crooked upwards into a faint smile. "I ain't attending the old man's birthday bash."

She stalked; seriously _stalked_ towards him.

"Lemme put things a bit more clearly for ya, Jason. You either can go to the party conscious and willing," he felt a cold weight settle around his right wrist, heard the familiar _clink_ as the cuff snapped in place. "Or unconscious and unwilling. I don't care which."

Even as annoyed as he was with her, Jason found himself more than a little impressed. And very, very aroused.

"Well, now, Kit," he worked up a leer. "If ya want ta get kinky, I've got no problem with it. But," he jerked his head in the direction of the crowd that had stumbled out of the bar where their quarrel had begun. "We've got an audience."

She just snapped; "Let's go."


	3. Night discussions

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but for the general concept of my theme and storyline as well as the character of Raya Kean/Fenix.

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They were stretched out on the huge sectional in the family room and watching _2012 _while unwinding from an uneventfully long evening of patrol. Raya shifted onto her left side and cradled her head on Dick's shoulder, her hand moving to rest on his chest. It was comfortable and familiar; the uncomplicated nature of their friendship allowing them to cuddle like this without fear it would be misinterpreted.

"Yanno that Bruce's birthday is in two days..." she said.

"And you haven't gotten him a birthday present yet?"

"No, I got him a present," she muttered. "It's just not the gift that I want to give him."

"What is it that you want to give him?"

"Jason."

Hearing she wanted to give Jason Todd as Bruce's birthday present did not surprise Dick any. He'd known that bringing the two together had been on her mind for a while now. Just as he knew the reason why came down to her wanting her family whole. During the six months where Bruce had seemingly _died_, the five of them: Raya, Damian, Alfred, Tim and himself, had come together to forge a new family. And while he'd remained largely on the fringe, Jason had allowed himself to be brought into that family fold. And that, Dick knew, was because of _her_. Which was why he was figuring that if there was anybody who could bridge the huge gap between father and son, it was her.

"You realize Jason is not gonna let you simply gift-wrap him and deliver him to Bruce willingly, right?"

"Cuffed and unconscious or not cuffed and conscious," she huffed. "Those are the only two choices he's getting."

"I see that you've put considerable thought into this, Rae," he teased.

She harrumphed. "It's obvious they won't do anything to bridge the gap between them. So I'll do it for them."

Dick almost felt sorry for the two men.

_Almost._


	4. Bad blood

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but for the general concept of my theme and storyline as well as the character of Raya Kean/Fenix.

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"Do you honestly think that Jason will come to Bruce's birthday party?"

Dick glanced over at his younger brother. Tim was slouched in front of the Batcomputer, his gaze glued to one of the seven large flat-panel LED monitors. But it was clear that the young superheroes mind was on something other than the complex chemical formula that was scrolling across the screen at warp speed. Dick didn't have to think long or hard about what—or in this particular case who—was currently on Tim's mind.

"Tim," he said. "I know that you and Jason have some bad blood betwe..."

"Bad blood?" Tim interjected. "He almost killed me, you and the twerp in his one man quest to wash the legacy of Batman in a maelstrom of malevolence and blood. This is about a whole lot more than bruised feelings and bad blood. This is about family."

"And that is exactly why she's doing this, Tim." Dick spoke as gently as he could now. "There's absolutely nothing more important to Raya than family. And right now, she sees her family is not the complete unit that she wants it to be. So she's decided to do what she does best: fix it."

"I just don't like that she is going to confront Jason alone," Tim muttered darkly. "What if he goes off the deep end again? He could hurt her, Dick."

"He won't hurt her," was the reply.

"How can you be so sure of that?" Tim demanded.

"Because," the elder superheroes lips curved at the corners. "I made sure that a certain little birdie tailed her."

Tim glanced over at Dick, an echoing smile on his own lips.

"She's gonna be pissed when she finds out that you had Damian follow her."

Dick's response was a shrug.


	5. Watchful Guardian

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but for the general theme and concept of this story still...

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"I want you to follow Raya for the next few days, Dami."

A pair of eyes shifted away from the group of thugs they'd been studying to meet eyes the same exact shade of blue as their own.

"And you want me to do this why exactly, Grayson?"

There was a moment of silence. Then Dick perforated that silence with a soft sigh.

"Because I have a feeling she's been seeing Jason. And while I am confident he'll never hurt her..." his voice trailed off.

"You still want someone there in case she pushes Todd's buttons."

"Yes."

Damian heaved a sigh. "I'm beginning to think her being home is more trouble than it was worth."

Dick's teeth flashed in the shadows.

"Ya shoulda thought about that _before_ you arranged her homecoming."

Damian merely snorted and turned back to watching the hulking figures they'd been sent to keep an eye upon.


	6. The Present

Jason Todd could only stare at the man that was seated at the table. A table where they'd shared a handful of infrequent evening meals after he'd come to live at the Manor. Most often they'd taken their meals in the Cave.

_While we were working on some case or analyzing some piece of data that we'd retrieved while out on patrol that night, _he thought.

The flood of memories tossed emotions already in a whirl. And the cause for his hyperemotional state was the green-eyed hellcat who'd handcuffed him to her in order to get him to come here.

"Why am I here, Bruce?" he asked in a voice laced with every ounce of the raw feelings that were coursing through him. "It's because a much too intelligent, prideful, stubborn pain in the ass woman took it into her head that we need to sort out the problems between us."

"Aw, you're making me blush here, Jas."

His glanced at her, let her know in no uncertain terms that there was going to be hell to pay when he got her alone. Raya merely lifted a brow, deliberately challenging, silently baiting him to do something. Jason cursed foully beneath his breath. Bruce looked from his son to the woman standing next to him.

"You did this?" When she nodded, he asked; "Why?"

"Because I knew that the one thing you would not think to get yourself was your rotten-tempered, foul-mouthed, violently driven, stubborn, hard of hearing and frequently stupid son."

"Gee, Kit," Jason wiped away an imaginary tear. "Just warmin'' my heart with all that flattery."

Bruce arched an eyebrow. Were there..._sparks_ flying between Raya and Jason? he silently wondered. He made a note to talk with Dick about it later.

"So," he said slowly. "You decided to bring Jason home as my birthday present?"

"Yup." Raya reached into her pocket and pulled out a red sticky bow that she promptly smacked onto Jason's chest. "Happy Birthday, Bruce."


End file.
